Returning to the lonely peak, Li Qiye cast a glance at Nan Huairen and tossed him the two iron short blades.
"Since you're so curious," he said, his tone languid, "take a good look for yourself."
Caught off guard but pleased, Nan Huairen examined them carefully. No matter how closely he scrutinized, he saw nothing extraordinary — just two rusted, ordinary Qimen knives of plain iron, ancient and pitted with corrosion. Their modest rust‑darkened blades seemed ready to crumble any moment.
"Why these blades, Senior Brother?" he asked, perplexed.
Li Qiye smiled.
"If you could see their secret so easily, they wouldn't have been left untouched for so long."
"Then … what treasures are they?" Nan pressed.
"No treasures at all," Li Qiye replied lightly. "Mere iron knives — worth less than a few silvers for their metal."
That answer only deepened the puzzle. If they were worthless, why choose them at all?
Li Qiye cut off his wondering with a calm voice:
"Yet these knives can slice through a Marquis's armament, even a True Person's treasure — as easily as tofu."
"Impossible!" Nan Huairen gaped. A Marquis‑level master was a legend of their era; a True Person stood near divinity, and none had appeared in the sect for thirty thousand years!
Li Qiye only watched him with amusement.
"You're clever and can read the winds of fate. Follow me and I won't treat you poorly. Imperial arts, sacred treasures — those are nothing. Do your part well and I'll see you learn the core Emperor techniques themselves."
Nan's heart shook. Even his master, even Elder Sun, had never promised such a thing. The sect's core Emperor arts were thought long lost.
"My thanks, Senior Brother."
He bowed deeply; Li Qiye accepted without a word.
When Nan departed, Li Qiye lifted the two Qimen knives once more. Rust scraped away beneath his fingers, revealing smooth, ancient metal — still mundane to look at, yet elegant in form.
He sighed softly. EvenImmortalEmperorsarebutpassers‑by intime.
Mingren had been his pupil — a man who bore Heaven's Will and shone invincible, yet too had vanished into the currents of eternity.
These two weak knives had once been Mingren Immortal Emperor's own.
In his youth, he forged them from humble iron and never abandoned them — not after learning the Dao, not even after becoming Emperor. Whenever he reminisced on his mortal days, he would gently stroke their blades.
Though never reforged, they had accompanied him through his life, imbibing his blood and will; the touch of an Emperor's hand and spirit had saturated the iron itself.
Now within them rested a trace of the Emperor'sAura — an immortal intent capable of destroying all.
Their worth did not lie in metal or make, but in the imperishable mark of a sovereign Dao within. Compared to Emperor artifacts they were simple, yet even a single thread of that intent could reduce a Marquis's treasure to ash.
Li Qiye traced their edges slowly, feeling the slumbering ferocity hidden beneath the surface.
To fully attune to that Emperor's Aura would take time and skill — but time was something he had in abundance.
Of all living men, who knew Mingren Emperor's Dao better than he, the one who had taught him?
### Three Months of Cultivation
Thus passed the days — calm and steady.
Li Qiye cultivated both the LunarVortex·SolarWheel and the KunpengSixTransformations while quietly comprehending the knives' hidden intent.
No one interfered. Though he held the title of senior disciple, within the Washing‑Dust Sect he was already half‑forgotten. Except for Nan Huairen and his master Mo Protector, none ever visited his peak — to the sect at large he was a transparent ghost.
Mo Protector himself once came to offer instruction, but seeing Li Qiye's composed confidence, he wisely withdrew the idea.
Then, at the end of three months of stillness —
A sudden tremor shook Li Qiye's body. Light burst from his Life Palace, ring after ring shining brighter and brighter. His eyes flashed like twin suns.
Within him, the Palace of Life roared to activity:
* In the east*, the SpringofLife began to flow, streams of vital water gurgling endlessly.
* In the west*, fire blazed from the GreatFurnace, its soul‑flames able to refine the three realms themselves.
* In the south*, the TreeofLife unfolded its branches, shedding waves of radiance, its vital force awakening like a dragon stirring from sleep.
* In the north*, the PillarofLife resounded with Dao‑tones, runes upon its surface coming alive and spinning with power.
He felt it clearly — something within him had opened its eyes. His True Life had awakened like a sleeping infant seeing the world for the first time.
Awakening—thesecondstageoftheKnockingRealm.
It had taken him three months, but his True Life was finally awake.
The runes of the KunpengSixTransformations swirled joyfully around it, transmuting between fish and bird, diving and soaring in endless rhythm.
He breathed deeply — content.
To others, three months would mark a mediocre mind — practically a fool.
But to him, it was a promising start: ajourneyoftenthousandmilesbeginswithasinglestep.
Even with his ordinary physique and fate, diligence and faith would bridge every gap.
AslongashisDao‑heartremainedsteadfast,therewouldcomeadaywhenhetoowouldbearHeaven'sWillandsweepacrosstheNineWorlds.
He smiled, settled once more into meditation, and moved on to the next realm.